


Casual

by LeapAngstily



Series: I'll Follow You (always a step behind) [2]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Casual Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, M/M, Open Relationships, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-26
Updated: 2014-03-26
Packaged: 2018-01-17 03:18:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1371940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeapAngstily/pseuds/LeapAngstily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniele is going through a midlife sexual identity crisis. It does not help that his captain has the most enticing body he has ever seen – in a purely platonic sense, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Casual

**Author's Note:**

> Related to [Separation Anxiety](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1169187), but works as a standalone as well.
> 
> Written in celebration of Bonbon’s 300th Serie A match last Sunday, but also because I miss Monto like crazy after just one game without him, and his injury needs to heal like right now!

Riccardo has the most captivating body Daniele has ever laid his eyes on.  
  
At first glance he is all long limbs, pale skin and smooth, narrow lines. At second glance you notice the way he carries himself: relaxed, silent confidence, so controlled and effortless that you just have to look for the third time.  
  
And after the third time comes the fourth, fifth and sixth, and then Daniele loses count because he cannot look away anymore.  
  
Riccardo expresses himself with his whole body, both on and off the pitch – it is beautiful and enticing, and Daniele cannot help but want to touch him.  
  
It is all completely platonic, he tells himself. After going through some serious soul-searching he is about 99 percent sure he is still straight and very much in love with his wife. The attraction he feels for Riccardo is but a passing fancy, purely aesthetic appreciation and nothing more.  
  
Besides, the non-platonic touching is reserved for Giampaolo, who takes every chance to lay his claim anew – his head on Riccardo’s shoulder, lips brushing against his earlobe as they share an inside joke; his hand on the small of Riccardo’s back, caressing the skin just visible below the hem of his shirt; their thighs brushing together as they sit next to each other on the plane to their next away match…  
  
Daniele can see all this now, because he knows they are more than just good friends – much more – and he cannot believe their other teammates are still completely unaware of it. Just like he used to be.  
  
Despite all this, Daniele cannot stop himself from touching Riccardo: casual touches, just a brush against his side when they pass each other in the hallways, just a hand on his arm when they exchange a few words in training, just a friendly hug when they celebrate a goal.  
  
Every time he is acutely aware of the way Riccardo’s body feels under his touch – the warmth of his skin, the movement of his flexing muscles, the way he leans into every touch almost unconsciously.  
  
Riccardo is a very physical being, and it makes drawing the line between casual and sexual even harder for Daniele.  
  
That line is practically stomped upon after the match against Lazio – Daniele’s 300th Serie A match, although he would have preferred to wait until the next game instead of replacing injured Mattia in the second half.  
  
Riccardo catches Daniele in the hotel lobby and quietly pulls him into an emergency staircase instead of the lifts everyone else is heading for.  
  
He is standing too close to Daniele for it to be accidental, their chests brushing against each other with every breath. His smile is small, a bit crooked, almost shy, but Daniele recognizes the confident amusement in his eyes, and it makes his heart skip a beat.  
  
“Congratulations, Daniele,” Riccardo says softly, the corners of his eyes wrinkling as his smile widens, “Three hundred games, that’s a lot.”  
  
Daniele can feel Riccardo’s breath on his lips as he speaks. One of his hands is stroking Daniele’s arm, climbing up to his shoulder until he reaches the exposed skin at the juncture of his neck.  
  
“You could’ve said it at the stadium,” Daniele argues weakly, but his voice comes out higher than he intended and he has to fight to keep his breathing even, all his attention on Riccardo’s careless caresses against his neck.  
  
Riccardo did not play today, his back still sore from the fall he took a week before, but he was still with the team for the whole time, watching the match from the stands and intruding the dressing room during the halftime. There was no reason he could not have congratulated Daniele together with the rest of the team.  
  
“But that wouldn’t have been any fun,” Riccardo’s laughter is airy, and despite Daniele’s best effort, his breath catches when Riccardo leans in even closer, to speak right into his ear, “I wouldn’t have been able to touch you like this.”  
  
His perfect, perfect body is now pressed flush against Daniele’s from chest to hip, and both his hands are caressing the back of Daniele’s neck, finding every sensitive spot with ease.  
  
That one percent of Daniele that is still unsure of his sexuality is gaining momentum: his body is responding to every touch embarrassingly fast, like he was back in school, exchanging his first kisses with the pretty girl from the class next door.  
  
“What about Pazzo?” he asks belatedly, although he knows even without asking that Giampaolo must know about this – there is no way Riccardo would do something like this without his permission.  
  
Riccardo nuzzles his short hair, his lips brushing against Daniele’s ear as he replies, smile apparent in his voice, “We had a bet: if he scored on your 300th game he’d be allowed to join us. I won.”  
  
He leans back just enough to meet Daniele’s eyes. Gone is the attempt to look innocent, replaced with a winning smile, so sure he has Daniele now, not a trace of the doubts Daniele has been fighting against since he first started noticing his attraction towards Riccardo.  
  
“It  _is_  okay to kiss me, you know,” Riccardo whispers impishly, his hands finding their way to Daniele’s face, thumbs caressing his cheeks encouragingly.  
  
Daniele does not need to be told twice, his semblance of a self control forgotten back in the lobby, right from the moment Riccardo laid his hands on him.  
  
He lifts his hand to grab the back of Riccardo’s head, his fingers slipping through the soft curls, and pulls him into a fumbling kiss. Riccardo follows his lead easily, pressing up against him again.  
  
Daniele is uncertain at first – he has never kissed a man before – but he can feel Riccardo parting his lips and running his tongue gently against his, urging him to take the lead, and slowly Daniele relaxes into the kiss.  
  
The kiss stretches as Daniele familiarizes himself with Riccardo’s mouth, growing bolder by the second, only pulling back long enough to take a breath before attacking those enticing lips again. His hand is still in Riccardo’s hair, fingers combing through the soft strands, while the other has slipped to Riccardo’s waist, pulling him even closer.  
  
Riccardo lowers his hands, runs them down Daniele’s sides until he reaches the waistband of his jeans. The tips of his fingers tease the skin just under the fabric, pushing down the jeans and the boxer briefs underneath as low as they go without opening the fly, exposing more skin.  
  
Daniele can feel Riccardo’s erection against his when the captain wriggles his hips in attempt to get even closer, and he cannot hide the gasp that slips out against Riccardo’s lips before he deepens the kiss, too aroused to go slow anymore.  
  
Riccardo is rolling his hips, the movement gracious and deliberate, the friction on Daniele’s cock even through his jeans enough to draw a throaty moan out of his lips, and he bucks against Riccardo almost involuntarily.  
  
“Maybe we should get a room?” Riccardo suggest with a breathless chuckle, so close that his lips touch Daniele’s with each word, “As exciting as fucking you here would be, I doubt it’s worth the risk of getting caught. And my back would kill me. Or my doctor, when he hears about this.”  
  
Daniele forces his frantic brain to ignore the thought of fucking Riccardo – fuck, he never even dared to hope it could be possible – in favour of the reminder that Riccardo is still injured.  
  
“You sure it’s okay? It’s not gonna hurt your back any further?” he asks quietly, carefully stroking Riccardo’s back to emphasize his point.  
  
“It’ll be fine, we just need to be careful. No athletic positions or slamming me against the walls, okay?” Riccardo smiles at Daniele’s worried expression and steals another kiss before pulling away, his hand finding Daniele’s as they head back to the lobby and into the lift.  
  
Riccardo has his own room – captain’s privileges – although Daniele happens to know Giampaolo did not sleep in his own room the previous night, which means Riccardo has hardly been alone in the wide bed until now either.  
  
Riccardo pulls him into a demanding kiss the moment they close the door behind them, his hands slipping under Daniele’s shirt, cool fingers tracing his sides playfully.  
  
Daniele takes a chance to tug off his shirt when they part for air, and then he moves to work on the buttons of Riccardo’s shirt while leaning in to catch his lips again. Riccardo is making his task difficult, though, squirming under his hands, trying to touch all of his skin at once.  
  
Daniele fumbles with the buttons when Riccardo brushes his fingers against his left nipple – Daniele has never thought of his nipples as particularly sensitive, but obviously Riccardo has managed to turn every nerve of his body unusually responsive.  
  
Riccardo is laughing against his lips, and he adds more pressure on his exploring touches, delighted when he manages to pull another gasp from Daniele’s lips.  
  
“Are you always such a tease?” Daniele asks between the kisses, giving up on the buttons and just pulling at Riccardo’s shirt until the remaining buttons pop open on their own, “How does Pazzo put up with you?”  
  
“He’s got lots of practice,” Riccardo answers as he finally allows Daniele to push the shirt off his shoulders, exposing the pale, unblemished skin underneath.  
  
Daniele has no time to admire the sight before Riccardo’s hands are back on him, opening the fly of his jeans and pushing them down along with his underwear, the sudden feeling of cool air on his cock taking Daniele by surprise.  
  
Riccardo is regarding his cock curiously, one eyebrow raised, before he carefully wraps his fingers around the length and leans in to whisper against Daniele’s lips, “I still think you’re bigger than him.”  
  
Daniele is not sure if it is the hand on his cock or the sudden reminder of that one time in the billiards room, but there is another rush of arousal gushing through him and he can barely contain his groan as he bucks into Riccardo’s touch.  
  
“The bed?” he suggests breathlessly, his hands gripping Riccardo’s hips hard, and he can feel the shape of Riccardo’s buttocks under his fingers.  
  
“Impatient, aren’t we?” Riccardo teases amusedly, but he steps away from Daniele nonetheless, the loss of contact leaving a terrible ache in Daniele’s body, a craving he did not know existed before he had a chance to touch Riccardo like this.  
  
Riccardo is wriggling his hips as he walks towards the bed, either trying to shake off his jeans or just teasing Daniele a bit more. Daniele can still see the faint bruise on his lower back – it used to look much worse, right after the Parma game – and he knows the worst damage is not even visible.  
  
“Is it really fine?” he asks softly, walking up to Riccardo and pressing up against his back, kissing his neck as he helps him push down the remaining clothes to expose his erection and that beautiful, beautiful ass.  
  
Riccardo responds by pressing his backside against Daniele’s cock, rubbing against him in a silent  _‘yes it’s fine now shut up’_  and the rational part of Daniele’s brain decides to take an impromptu holiday again.  
  
He wraps his arms around Riccardo, one hand caressing his abdomen while the other dips between his legs to stroke his cock. From this angle it is not so different from touching himself, and Riccardo moans appreciatively, resting his head on Daniele’s shoulder.  
  
They move slowly towards the bed, Daniele never stopping his strokes on Riccardo’s cock, all the while rubbing his own erection against his butt, dropping lazy kisses against his exposed neck.  
  
“There’re condoms and lube in the nightstand,” Riccardo whispers into Daniele’s ear, voice catching in his throat, before he steps away from his arms and climbs onto the bed, settling down on his stomach, a pillow under his hips to make the position more comfortable for his back.  
  
Daniele finds the small vial and an unopened package of condoms without much trouble, but his uncertainty returns when he sits on the edge of the bed, his eyes finally taking in every line and curve of Riccardo’s body.  
  
“I’ve never—” he starts before Riccardo interrupts him.  
  
“Well I have. And I’m definitely not topping you when you need to be fit to play in three days,” Riccardo is leaning on his elbows, looking at Daniele over his shoulder with a pout, like challenging him to argue with him, “Just stop worrying. It’s not that different from straight sex, I promise.”  
  
Daniele hesitates for a couple more seconds before he leans in to press a kiss on Riccardo’s shoulder, caressing one of his buttocks carefully, “You need to speak me through it, though.”  
  
Riccardo’s eyes soften and he lays his head back down on his arms with a pleased sigh, “Just go one finger at a time, you’ll notice when it’s okay to add another. I’m used to it so two should be enough.”  
  
Daniele has some trouble opening the vial of lube, and he needs to pay extra attention not to spill any of the clear lotion on the sheets, but he manages to coat his fingers with it anyways.  
  
Riccardo lifts his hips slightly to meet his touch, and there is no resistance at all when Daniele pushes his middle finger inside.  
  
“See? Not so bad at all,” Riccardo hums, smiling back at Daniele as he begins to move his finger around, trying to spread the lubricant as far as he can.  
  
Daniele does not dare to answer aloud, afraid his voice might not come out – just looking at Riccardo pushing back against his finger and the feeling of his insides clenching barely noticeably around his digit are turning him on even more if possible – so he just presses more kisses against his back, tracing the week-old bruises with his lips as if trying to make them better.  
  
Like Riccardo said, Daniele can feel when he is ready for another finger, but he prolongs the moment a while more just to be sure. Riccardo lets out an unashamed moan when he starts working in the second finger, adding a bit more lube along with it, stretching the entrance with slow movements.  
  
Daniele has no idea if this stretching is enough even though Riccardo assured him it would be fine, so he keeps tracing Riccardo’s insides, feeling his way around, still amazed that his cock is going to be inside this beautiful man in a few moments.  
  
He is so concentrated on the task at hand that he is honestly startled when Riccardo suddenly bucks against his hand with a constrained “Fuck!”  
  
Daniele is about to pull his fingers away when Riccardo reaches out his hand behind him, grabbing Daniele’s wrist in a tight grip, holding him in place, “Don’t. You. Fucking. Dare.”  
  
“What is it?” Daniele asks, but pushes his fingers back in nonetheless, searching for the same spot he brushed against just now.  
  
“You just found my prostate,” Riccardo informs him with a soft laugh, “Took ages for Giampaolo to— Fuck yes, that’s it!”  
  
His last words are swallowed in a whimper and he hides his face into his arms to muffle further sounds as Daniele rubs his fingers against his prostate tentatively.  
  
“Stop, please?” Riccardo finally gasps out, still not looking up from his arms, “Or I might come just from this.”  
  
Daniele is immensely proud that he has managed to push Riccardo so close to the edge – serves him right, after teasing Daniele for weeks with his captivating body language – but he complies and pulls his fingers out after one more stroke, earning another whine from Riccardo.  
  
“Lay down,” Riccardo commands quietly as he slowly sits up on the bed, and it is his captain tone again, the one Daniele could never resist.  
  
Riccardo moves to straddle Daniele as soon as he settles down on the mattress, stroking his cock as if making sure he is fully hard – pointless worry, obviously – before picking up the package of condoms.  
  
Riccardo’s hands are shaking just slightly as he pulls out a foil-wrapped condom and rips the wrapping open with some difficulty. Daniele reaches out to stroke his knuckles affectionately.  
  
“Let me,” he whispers as he pulls the condom from Riccardo’s hands and rolls it over his own erection expertly. At least this part is familiar to him.  
  
Riccardo thanks him with a gentle smile as he moves up Daniele’s body and positions himself, one hand on Daniele’s cock to guide the tip against his entrance.  
  
“Ready?” he asks but does not give Daniele a chance to answer as he leans down to press their lips together. Daniele is most definitely not ready when Riccardo sinks down on his erection, taking him inside in one languid movement, almost impossibly tight around Daniele’s length.  
  
“Dear God,” he gasps against Riccardo’s lips before taking a hold of the back of his neck and pulling him into another kiss, a hard press of lips, their tongues meeting in desperate attempt to taste everything at once.  
  
Riccardo is moving, rolling his hips in painfully slow circles, never rising off Daniele’s cock completely. Daniele can feel Riccardo’s body clenching around him, the hot tightness getting more difficult to bear with each passing second, but still he tries to move against Riccardo with each of his movements, trying to get more, more, more...  
  
Then Riccardo bites down on Daniele’s lower lip, interrupting the kiss abruptly.  
  
“Sorry,” he whispers with strained voice, rising up to lean on his hands, looking down at Daniele’s face with half-closed eyes. Daniele cannot resist the urge to touch his face, so he reaches out and runs his fingers down Riccardo’s cheek, marvelling the beautiful sight in front of him.  
  
“I still can’t quite believe it,” he admits, sitting up to come face to face with Riccardo, who is forced to lean back in his lap, changing the angle of entry.  
  
“Shut up, what else was I supposed to do with the way you were looking at me?” Riccardo grits out, obviously holding back laughter as he wraps his arms around Daniele’s shoulders, “I’m really close, so if you could just jerk me off when you’re about to—”  
  
The end of the sentence is cut off by a loud moan when Daniele bucks up into Riccardo’s body and wraps his fingers around his erection at the same time, firm strokes pushing him fast over the edge, his cum coating Daniele’s hand.  
  
The increased clenching around his cock is far too much for Daniele who has been holding off his orgasm for a while already. He comes with a groan he hides into the crook of Riccardo’s neck, his free arm wrapping around the narrow waist to pull the man against his chest.  
  
They stay like that for a long while, Riccardo clinging to Daniele’s shoulders, refusing to get off his lap before Daniele has grown soft inside him.  
  
The condom slips off when Riccardo finally gets up, but neither of them pays attention to the mess. Riccardo chucks the condom to the floor carelessly and curls up against Daniele’s side with a content sigh, one leg thrown over Daniele’s.  
  
“Doesn’t Pazzo miss you?” Daniele asks him, only an afterthought in his sleepy mind, as he wraps his arm around Riccardo to pull him even closer.  
  
“He lost the bet,” Riccardo mumbles against his neck, his breath cool against the sweaty skin, “You’re mine for the night.”  
  
Daniele has no energy left to argue how questionable it is of Riccardo and Giampaolo to bet on him, especially when just this morning Daniele was still fairly sure of his heterosexuality.  
  
Instead, he lets sleep claim him, Riccardo’s warm body against his feeling just right.


End file.
